


the last sun falls before her

by orphan_account



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, comic book logic abounds, tw body horror, tw gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:05:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9910466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kara's been lost since Clark brought her back, since Telos changed her. She's been lost for so long, but she has to fight.Without that role, without Supergirl and Alex and everything she can salvage from her old life, Kara can't be sure of who she is anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So basically, there are easier eays to do the whole premise of Kara losing her powers while remaining Kryptonian, but where's the fun in that when I can do this convoluted plot?
> 
> Consider this somewhere around the beginning of season 2.

She can feel the blood dripping from the side of her mouth. The inside of her cheek has torn on the right side of her jaw, and she can feel her face swelling on the left a little.

Astra has not been kind. She has not been as gentle as she had been when Kara had first started learning how to defend herself as a child. No, this Astra is harsh, brutal in ways she had always allowed herself to ignore before.

Astra moves in for another attack, forcing Kara to move away. She is slower than the older woman, painfully so even in the kryptonite infused room, and she can feel the ache in her bones even before she tries to stand.

Everything hurts, tears at her insides and sets them aflame. She wants to stop, wants to run, but there is another part of her, a deeper, stronger part that wants this, that needs the kind of power Astra is offering so freely.

She moves in again, goes for a punch to the stomach. She is wild rage and primal instinct, rebelling against every restraint she’s placed on herself. All she knows is that she has to attack, has to defend herself before Astra can get another hit in.

Astra grabs her wrist, twists as she pulls Kara forward, under her shoulder and around. She falls onto her back with a painful thud, a reminder that she isn’t good enough yet, that she may never be good enough for this.

“You’ve improved, Little One, but you’ve forgotten your forms again.”

She wants to bite back, to say something, though she doesn’t quite know what that is. All she can feel is this terrible rage.

“Kara.” Astra steps closer, grabs her shoulder gently. She has to remind herself that they’re done, that this session is over. “What you’re feeling? That cannot be the sum of your being. You need to harness that power, Little One, and apply it to what I’ve already taught you.”

“I’m trying,” she mumbles in return.

She doesn’t look at Astra, cannot meet her eyes when she still sees her mother, still sees a woman who advocated for peace, only to exact harsher sanctions than most. She can still see the disdain Astra felt for earth, for the humans who call this planet home.

She can see the red running beneath her skin, reflected in eyes that tell a story of sorrow, of anger, revenge abandoned but never unwanted.

Kara pulls away, stalks out of the room as swiftly as she can. She doesn’t want Astra’s platitudes just then, her faint praise. She doesn’t want to be told that it’s okay, that she’s improving, when every part of her wants to fall into bed and never leave.

She heads to the locker room, intent on showering away the guilt, the shame of failing something she once excelled in. Even here, even after so long, she cannot shake the name of El, cannot shake the burden of her house.

Tugging her clothes off, she drops them to the floor and steps into the stall. The water is scalding against her skin, a warning, a blessing. The heat is enough to bring her out of her rage, her despair, enough to remove the stiffness from her movements so that she can clean herself, wash away the filth of another training session ended too soon.

She moves her neck from side to side, waits for that particular feeling when she cracks it. It’s not as strong as before, but it’s still there, still more pronounced than when she used to blow out her powers. She hates that she’s grateful to him for leaving her with this, but she is.

Her nails dig into her skin as she stands under the spray, a reminder that she is here, that she’s alive. It should be enough, should be all she needs, but it isn’t. It’s never going to be enough, she thinks.

When she falls to the floor, she can’t say. All she knows is that soon, Astra’s arms are around her, the familiar syllables of an old Kryptonian song whispered into her ear as she tries and fails to find Astra’s heartbeat, to match hers to it.

It doesn’t matter in the end, not when Astra is tugging her hand, placing it over her heart for her. She can feel it then, beats the rhythm of it into her aunt’s skin as the older woman rocks her gently.

They don’t say anything, can’t say anything. Kara doesn’t know how to tell her that she wants to die, that she doesn’t know how much longer she can bear the burden of a legacy half destroyed in its fulfillment. She doesn’t know how to tell her that it doesn’t matter that Astra is here now, that it doesn’t matter that she’s alive, because she wishes that they were both dead, that they weren’t this ragged, half-formed remnant of what once was.

She doesn’t know how to tell Astra that she can’t do this, that she can’t stay here. It feels too much like giving up, like her parents preparing her to leave for earth when they should have done something, anything to heal their home, to repair the mistakes of generations past.

It feels too much like spitting on the life that she’s been given, like dishonouring the memory of her house. It feels too much like giving up when everyone else has done so much for her, has sacrificed so much just to keep her safe, alive.

She thinks of Alex then, thinks of the flirtation she has with Maggie, an almost-something that Alex won’t act upon because of her. She thinks of Astra, giving up on her beliefs just to save her, to bring her back from the edge of death after being denied her own respite. She thinks of J’onn losing more of his family and she knows then, knows that she can’t say the words circling through her mind.

She’s broken, but she will not break. It’s a promise she makes in that moment, one she has to keep.


	2. Chapter 2

There’s a fear that grows as she lets herself into Kara’s apartment, a need that guides her through the dimly lit darkness until she finds the couch, sinks to the ground next to it. Kara is awake, but just barely, her good arm dangling off of the couch as she stares at some inane movie that she’s not really watching.

Alex runs her fingers through damp hair, wonders if it’s water or sweat that coats her fingers. She’s been pushing herself lately, trying to prove something that no one seems to know, no one except maybe Astra, J’onn.

Part of her wants to rage, to take Kara away from all of this, but she knows that it’s not what the other woman wants. She knows that Kara would never forgive her for taking this away when it’s all she seems to have left.

“Come on, Tiny Alien,” she murmurs, coaxing Kara up, slipping beneath her. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus surrounds her as Kara lays back. Water then. “Missed you today. Winn tried to burn down the lab again. Nearly set Mon-El on fire too.”

There’s a watery laugh that comes from somewhere beneath her breastbone, an echo of a sound that’s lost to the stars now. Alex counts it as a victory, a thing to store away somewhere safe.

She relaxes at the sound, lets her guard drop just enough to wrap an arm around Kara, to pull her closer. Somehow, it doesn’t quite feel close enough but she tries anyway, wants to sink Kara into her skin, her bones, her blood, until nothing can hurt her.

“That was before he even got to sit in on that conference call with Oracle. She said something about wanting to send Batgirl to National City? J’onn nixed the idea before she could get too far though.”

Kara’s shoulders are shaking, her laughter quiet.

“He claims he doesn’t want to have to deal with another blonde puppy that makes way too many jokes, but I think he just misses having you around.”

Alex doesn’t mention how much she hates the idea of someone standing in for Kara, hates the idea of not having her where she can see her at all times. She doesn’t mention how much she wishes that she could just hold her hand during the day, keep the darkness at bay for her.

It feels like she’s failed somehow, feels like everything she’s done has fallen apart in the face of something she could have stopped.

Kara shifts against her, tucks herself closer.

“Mm. Stop thinking so much, ‘Lex.”

Her voice is worn, hoarse from disuse. It’s rough in a way it hasn’t been in a long time, in a way that cuts through Alex.

Her fingers play across Kara’s stomach, tangles with those of the hand that’s lying there. There’s still very little response from them, but she can feel a faint pressure where there had been none before. She’ll note it down later, add it to all the things that return to Kara, that give her back pieces of what she had before.

Now, she holds her, tells her all the things she’s missed that day. She wants Kara with her, wants to know that nothing has broken _them_ , but it’s not time yet.

* * *

 

Once she’s eased Kara into bed, Alex returns to the living room, pulls out her laptop. There’s a message waiting for her, a simple alert on an algorithm she’s been running with Oracle’s help.

She doesn’t exactly want help out of Gotham, agrees with J’onn that this is something they should handle on their own, but Batman was there. He was there and he didn’t stop it, didn’t stop Clark from letting his only living relative sacrifice herself for him when he’s so much older, so much less bright than Kara is.

She reads quickly, notes where the kryptonite signatures have appeared in conjunction with employment methods on the dark net. They could have done this at the D.E.O., could have tracked CADMUS themselves, but Oracle’s work is faster, cuts through all the mess and the traps better than anything they could have come up with.

If she has to take Gotham’s aid, she’ll take their best, use it as much as she can.

A message pops up on the side of her screen, outlined in bright green.

_Oracle: How’s our favourite Kryptonian puppy?_

Alex shakes her head. Of course they would ask that now.

_A.Danvers: Sleeping. Training is hard even without the injuries she has._

_Oracle: The offer still stands, Agent Danvers. Batgirl can be out there in a few hours._

Something hurts at the thought of Batgirl, pricks at the scars that have yet to fade.

_A.Danvers: Thanks but no. Why does it feel like you’re trying to get rid of her?_

There’s no answer, another round won by Alex. She doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to think about how expendable his own people are to Batman, to Oracle. She doesn’t want to think about the things she’d sacrificed to have her own hero back in action, to see her smile when they seem so willing to disperse their agents as far from Gotham as possible.

She shakes her head, surveys the data again. They’re close, so close to National City, but she can’t find where, can’t pinpoint the exact location.

Her phone rings, causes her to curse. There’s an order for her to come in as soon as she can.

“Don’t…”

Kara is standing in the doorway, her eyes red, drooping. She’s barely holding herself up, barely awake, but somehow, she’s there. She’s there and she’s staring at Alex, a plea in her voice.

“How…?”

“Can’t sleep without you,” she mumbles. “Was coming back, saw the phone.”

“Kara…”

“Please? I can’t….I can’t…”

Alex is up and at her side before she can finish, wrapping herself around Kara before the other woman can fall. She’s so light, her body thinner than it should be, but Alex ignores that, ignores every sign pointing to Kara’s lack of recovery.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she says softly as they stand there. “Your body still needs time to recover from everything that’s happened so far.”

Kara shakes her head, pushes at Alex’s shoulder weakly. She struggles to get out, to hold herself up on her own, but Alex won’t let her, can’t let her. Alex can’t watch her try, only to come apart at the seams like she’s so close to doing.

An elbow hits her stomach, would leave her doubled over if it hadn’t lacked the force necessary for that. Kara’s fingers claw into her skin, indentations made almost unnoticeable by the lack of energy, of pressure behind such a move.

When Kara tries to turn, Alex moves with her, presses her against the wall until she stops. It’s only then that she sees it, that she notices the tear tracks running down her cheeks.

“What hurts?”

She’s careful as she wipes away the tears, not wanting to hurt her anymore. Her fingers don’t press as they move against Kara’s skin, barely skimming beneath bandaged skin.  She notes the lessening of the swollen skin, the way the red has receded compared to a few days ago. They’ll have to check that soon, to make sure that there’s no infection.

Kara doesn’t answer her, whimpers as she leans into her. Her shirt is damp, but when Alex looks down, there’s no blood, only sweat soaked clothes and a trembling Kryptonian.

Scooping Kara up, she helps her adjust her arms until she’s holding onto Alex loosely as she makes her way back into the bedroom. The shaking increases when Alex sets her onto the bed, but she’s quick to kneel down, press her head against Kara’s until it stops.

Only then does she stand, move around the room to get a fresh hoodie and a pair of shorts for Kara. Changing her clothes happens slowly, both of them all too aware of Kara’s injuries, of the sensitive areas she’s developed since beginning to train with Astra.

Neither speaks, Kara content to let Alex do what she has to. Alex knows it’s because she wants her to stay, doesn’t know how to press that point when she knows that it would be asking her to abandon duty, her work for her.

Still, it’s amusing when a surprised squeak escapes from her after she pushes Kara down and joins her beneath the covers. The algorithm can run without her, she thinks.

“So, you can sweat enough that you soak through your clothes,” she murmurs, tracing the edges of a scar running down Kara’s face beneath the bandages. “That’s new.”

Kara whines, but there’s no energy in it.

“I wonder if it applies in other situations. Maybe give you a reason to learn how to lie?”

She leans in, smiles against Kara’s hair to take the sting out of her words. Whatever it is J’onn wants, it can wait until morning comes. This is where she needs to be at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I want Gotham characters in this? Yes.
> 
> Do I specifically want the Danvers meeting Babs and Steph? Well, technically Kara and Steph have already met and are besties for life, but still yes.
> 
> Are they gonna appear in this? NOPE.
> 
> Sorry guys, but the most you'll see is Oracle cyber flirting with Alex, maybe. If she appears again. Still not over the fact that the gayest Barbara has ever been has been under _Chuck Dixon_.
> 
> Anyway, have a thing.


	3. Chapter 3

She wakes, tangled in Alex’s arms, tangled in sheets that smell like her. Stretching, Kara winces as every inch of her skin pulls taut, feels like it might rip with the effort. Wincing, she drops back down onto Alex, lets her fingers play across her sternum.

There’s a groan beneath her cheeks, Alex’s chest vibrating against her cheeks. A hand swats at her before settling to scratch at her scalp, but her eyes remain closed.

“Too early, Little Kryp,” she grumbles. Kara freezes, causing Alex to pause, her fingers tightening slightly in her hair. “Shit.”

Kara moves away, curls into herself before Alex can reach out. She puts her hand out at first, tries to get to her before pulling back and crawling toward her instead. Together, they slip onto the floor, Kara a tight ball as she clings to Alex.

Her mind is blank, all feeling gone from her body. There’s nothing but white noise, nothing but an emptiness that can’t be filled.

Her body is adrift, a thing separated from her as she floats in the intersection of memory and pain that binds her to the earth. She’s stuck, chained to the loss of her powers, of the parts of her that separate her from humanity.

It keeps her there, leaves her lost in time, in space. Kara doesn’t know where she is, everything lost, gone, while she’s left behind in her loneliness. It makes her sick, makes her want to throw up until her lungs come up, her heart, her intestines.

In her mind there are only organs and muscle where she once was, piles of fats and proteins melted together until there’s nothing of the girl left, only gore and blood and bile. There’s nothing left but auseless substance that lacks, that holds nothing but air, but emptiness.

“Hey, hey Kara.”

There’s a voice that echoes into the white space, a warmth that spreads where she thinks her chest should be. She turns to it, tries to bend herself around it until she’s enveloping the warmth inside of her consciousness.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s fine babe. It’s fine.”

Alex, her mind whispers. It’s Alex.

“I’m here. I’m real. You’re safe.”

She works into consciousness, feels that warmth spreading across her conscious being until she feels weight. It’s almost enough to make her sob, the feeling of wet tears in her eyes registering in her core.

“Al?”

There’s a smile against her hair. She has hair. She has a body. She can breathe.

“Hey.”

Kara shifts, lets herself turn into Alex. Her body aches, screams in pain as she moves, but she can’t bring herself to care at the moment. She can feel, can see, can smell. She’s alive.

“You okay?”

She shakes her head, stays silent. She can’t tell her, can’t tell Alex about the things turning in her head, the way she itches to go back to space, to go back to the blackness of that vacuum until she becomes nothing again.

She doesn’t tell her that she’s not okay. She can’t tell her.

* * *

 

She catches the sword on her arm, the gash it creates seeping into her sleeve before Kara can register the sting of it. Astra backs off, her fingers releasing their death grip on the weapon.

Kara looks at it curiously, flinching instinctually when she touches the open wound. It hurts, but the pain is distant, like an annoyance almost, as she swipes at the dripping liquid.

“Little One, what—”

“I’m bleeding.”

“Yes. Your cells lack the protection provided by Sol’s energy now. I thought you were aware of this already?”

“I am,” she murmurs absently. “But it’s never been like this.”

There’s something fascinating about the red, something that makes her want more and more if it to spill forth. It’s too slow for her, too much like the emptiness come back to her, until there’s nothing in her vision but that.

Slender, crooked fingers brush hers away, stain themselves in the red as it’s wiped away. The touch is gentle, caring, but all Kara can focus on is the rough calluses of Astra’s fingers, the way it catches on her skin.

“You’re not invulnerable anymore.”

The words are whispered with a kind of despair, a kind of relentless loss that mirrors her own. Kara raises her hand to touch her, to take the sting of her emotions away, but she falters when she sees her fingers, the blood dripping off of them with each movement.

She retreats, wraps her arm in the offered bandage before motioning for her aunt to pick her weapon up again. The blade seems to grow longer as she does, seems to grow brighter, but she knows that it’s just an illusion, her optic nerves responding to the effects of her blood loss and the lack of food she’s been experiencing all day.

Astra smirks as she wavers at the sight, rolls the sword in her hand a bit.

“Something the matter, little daughter of El?”

The emptiness threatens to close in on her again, to consume every part of her, but she pushes it aside for this. She’s hungry for more, needs to see more red, to see if she can paint her entire body with it.

The need is almost primal, a reminder that she is here, that she is alive. She wants that reminder now, wants to prove that she isn’t gone yet, that she’s still alive.

She wants to prove that she can bleed again. She wants to see the red once more.

* * *

 

“You’re not ready.”

J’onn won’t look at her as he denies her this, won’t face her with the honour of a Green Martian she’s become used to in her dealings with him. She knows why, knows that he’s just concerned, but she doesn’t need this, doesn’t need him to deny her what she wants when she knows that she’s ready.

Turning to Alex, she pleads without words, begs her to make the world make sense again. She pleads for a return to the life she used to have, a return to everything she’s known so far.

Alex shakes her head, remains leaning against the wall with her arms folded against her chest. She doesn’t look at Kara, doesn’t look at her as she denies her.

They both know that they can’t change his mind, that he’s probably already spoken to Astra about her progress. They both know that he won’t change his mind, that he won’t let her out into the field until she proves that she’s as capable as Alex, as him.

“Please, J’onn. I need this. The people need to see their hero out there again.”

“And they will, but not yet and certainly not as Supergirl.”

“But—”

He holds up a hand to stop her before she can continue. There’s sorrow in his expression when he finally looks at her, the sense of a memory revisited again and again. Bruce, she thinks. Bruce has been here.

“You’re not ready Kara, and I won’t lose you to a crusade you can’t win if you just throw yourself into it recklessly. You will train, as agreed, and only when your aunt determines you ready will I begin to consider releasing you onto the public. Gods know, we can’t afford another scandal with the media after your last disappearance.”

She hangs her head, hears the rebuke in his words before he can think to take it back. She knows that, knows that she’s failed all of them in the most important ways, but she needs this, needs it more than breathing. Turning to Alex again, Kara opens her mouth to speak, but she shakes her head instead, the words dying in her throat.

She can’t do this.

* * *

 

There’s no light when she gets to the roof. The D.E.O. has been running on backup generators ever since Leslie’s attack on the power grid near the heart of the city. It’s dark, almost as dark as the space that calls her, presses down on her spine until she feels like she can’t breathe with the weight of it.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Kara jumps, startled, frowns when she realizes that it’s just Alex. She hates that she can’t hear her now, hates that she can still sneak up on her so easily. It makes her shift uncomfortably, her body flinching away from the only comfort she’s ever really sought on this planet.

Alex frowns at her in return, her eyes going dark for a moment. Kara thinks she looks like the Angel of Death in that moment, like danger and temptation and finality rolled into one.

She grins at herself, lets what she thinks is a feral expression cross her face before it disappears completely with the clearing of Alex’s eyes. Now isn’t the time to reflect on religion, on all the ways she’s wrong for how she thinks of her.

“Thought I’d check up on your arm before your aunt comes swinging for my head.”

“She wouldn’t kill you, Alex. Maybe fling you to the moon.”

It’s hard to get the words out, the texture of her tone feeling off, rough and sticky in her throat. She doesn’t want to do this, doesn’t want to pretend, but she can’t let them see it, can’t let them know how much the stars call to her in a siren song she’s finding harder and harder to resist.

Alex doesn’t seem to buy into it anyway, doesn’t seem to believe that she can lie her way into simply being better. Reaching out, she pulls Kara to her, presses against her heart with her fingers.

“He wasn’t wrong.”

The words cut into her, tear her apart bit by bit until she imagines that she’s running red in Alex’s arms. Kara tries to stumble back, to free herself from her grip, but she can’t bring herself to break away from the comfort of that hold.

“He wasn’t wrong that you’re not ready, Kara. We can’t let you go yet.” She pauses, clears her throat but it’s too late. She’s already heard the way it breaks around her words. “I’m not ready to let you go out there yet.”

Kara shakes her head, stares at something over Alex’s shoulder as she holds on tighter to her.

“What about what I need?”

Alex pulls back then, searches every part of her that she can find in the dark. There’s something there she hasn’t seen before, something she doesn’t want to see.

“No,” she whispers, steps back. Alex lets her, doesn’t pursue her immediately. “No. No no no.”

She finds herself backing up into the low wall, tripping. It’s only her training with Astra that keeps her from plunging down, from falling the way she wants to fall, from breaking the way she wants to.

Instead, she slides to her knees, hands coming up to either side of her head as she tries to shut out the voices telling her that she’s wrong, that there’s nothing right about her now. She’s wrong for wanting, wrong for needing this the way she does, wrong for thinking about it, for the way the red shades it over.

Alex comes to her then, holds her close before leaning in to press her lips against hers. The kiss is short, barely lips on lips, but Kara whimpers, leans in for more even as everything in her aches to simply melt into the other woman.

It’s as if a hunger awakes in her then, her fingers scrabbling to grasp every part of Alex that she can reach. She wants and wants and wants, aching with the force of it as her heart thunders in her chest.

They’re innocent kisses, barely anything really, but she feels the dark crawling across her skin, pushing her deeper and deeper into her partner until all she can feel is Alex Alex Alex, every sensation muted even as she pushes, tries to get more.

It’s heaven, hell, every part of her burning with want, cold with the ache of knowing that she can’t have more, that anything else is too wrong, sounds too much like failure. It’s nothing but it’s everything, pulling Kara under until she can’t breathe.

She wants this, she thinks. She wants this and so much more than this that nothing else matters anymore. Somehow, she has to make herself okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still choppy, still how I want it. This fic is kind of triggering for me to write at this point but it's what it is.


	4. Chapter 4

Kara’s head is in her lap as she runs her fingers through her hair. She’s staring blankly at the television, her eyes unfocused. She’d worry but it’s late and the memory of having Kara pressed against her is still bothering her, still making her wonder if Kara is alright, if there’s something that she hasn’t managed to reach.

There’s a whimper from her thighs and she looks down to see Kara holding her arm, blood seeping through her bandages.

“Oh, Alien Girl.”

She helps her to sit up, grabs the supplies she’s learnt to keep nearby. Carefully, she takes Kara’s arm in her hand, frowns when she notices the way Kara’s holding it away from her body. Unwrapping the bandages, she presses the tender skin, watches as the blood oozes out of her wounds.

“Kara, what have you and Astra been doing?”

“Training.”

The words are mumbled. Kara won’t meet her eyes, won’t look at her as she moves to get away, to run before Alex can say anything. She tightens her grip a bit, moves to swing her legs onto Kara’s lap in order to stop her.

“Hey, don’t panic. I’m not…I’m not mad, just concerned.” She runs her fingers along Kara’s skin. “Didn’t know it was this bad.”

Kara shrugs but she stops struggling, lets Alex pull her a bit closer. They’re quiet for a while, Alex taking care of Kara while she stares off into the distance. There’s something disturbing about that, something that makes her wince whenever she sees clouded blue eyes avoiding her.

It makes her turn, pull Kara on top of her as she traces the lines of the bandages she’s just wrapped around the still blending wound. She cringes a little when Kara flinches, tries to pull her arm in, but she holds her close, runs her fingers along cloth and skin until Kara calms down again, relaxes against her.

“You’re not gonna get away that easily anymore,” she whispers, hugging her gently. “I’m here now. I’m always going to be here.”

* * *

 

_There’s something unusually calm about Clark, an acceptance of an inevitability that has Alex punching him before she can think about it. Bones shatter against his chest. Blood seeps through the tears in her skin as she watches the way fragments rise through the dermis into the open air of the room._

_She shakes it out, flecks of blood littering the floor before she’s kicking him this time, shin shattering beneath the force of her kick meeting the invulnerability of his body. Her eyes tear up but she refuses to let them fall, refuses to cry from the force of her own mistakes as she collapses to the floor._

_“Stand down, Agent Danvers.”_

_She looks up, just in time to see Lucy marching towards her, eyes wide with concern, anger, a sadness that none of them can seem to escape. It makes her growl, makes her want to get up again, but she can’t move, can’t think, can’t breathe._

_“Lucy, I think…I think she needs help.”_

_“Just because she attacked you–”_

_“No! No. I mean her hand and her leg. She…she’s mourning, kid. I can’t blame her.”_

_She hears them through a fog of pain, pain so unending that she can’t bring herself to focus long enough to speak.  She can’t focus long enough to forget the way Kara had hung limply in Clark’s arms, the bloodless, lifeless pallor of her body as Alex had taken her from him, cradled her to her chest as she’d carried her to medical._

_Kara is dying, she thinks. Her Alien Girl is leaving her and all she can do is sit here, cradling broken bones and letting the pain overwhelm her._

_She feels useless, feels the weight of her inability to do anything crushing her bones into dust. She feels the way she fails her, the way she fails everything she believes in because she can’t save the only person who matters._

* * *

 

Kara shuffles into the lab, the dragging of her feet making Alex look up, frown as she takes her in. She’s bruised, movements slow as she grasps onto the countertop to make her way over.

Alex sets her tablet down, moves to Kara’s side, stopping her where she is. Kara leans into her, warm, heavy against her ribs.

“Take it easy, champ. You’re just as breakable as I am, remember?”

Kara nods and Alex knows almost immediately that she’s said the wrong thing, but she can’t take it back. She forgets, sometimes, that she isn’t Supergirl, that she isn’t made of steel and determination. She forgets that she’s flesh and bone and stardust concentrated into a frame too thin, too broken to continue like this much longer.

It makes her want to scream. It makes her want to take Kara, to run far from everything that threatens to take her away from Alex and just hide somewhere, live with each other and for each other in a way that’s been engraved into her very bones.

Kara presses a hand against Alex’s chest, moves it until it’s resting above her heart, and it makes her pause, makes her wait to see what happens next. One second, two. She doesn’t know how long it’s been when Kara finally pulls away.

“You okay, Alien Girl?”

Kara nods, presses her forehead against Alex’s shoulder as she wraps her arms around her. Alex leans into it, runs her fingers through Kara’s hair before pulling her closer, inhaling as she kisses the top of her head.

She doesn’t want her to go, doesn’t want to send her back to training when every minute she spends with Astra stains her skin more and more with her own blood. It’s selfish, Alex thinks, but she wants to keep her like this, wants to keep her safe by her side, with her instead of her aunt.

She thinks it says a lot about her when she doesn’t flinch away from Kara’s touch, doesn’t move away when her fingers stroke down her jaw, cups the back of her neck. She raises her hand to touch those fingers, moves them so that she can press a kiss to each one.

“Kara, my Kara, what’s wrong?”

Kara doesn’t answer, doesn’t say a word. She just presses Alex’s hand to her chest, a mirror of earlier when she’d done it to her. She curls her fingers over the spot, leans her forehead against Kara’s.

“I love you, you know that? You’re my best friend.”

Kara closes her eyes, dim blue disappearing behind her eyelids as her breathing slows a bit. She’s not quite asleep, still doesn’t need it, but she’s getting there. She’s so close to a rest she needs to get that Alex can’t even bring herself to interrupt, to make her move when she should.

Instead, she slides to the floor, runs her fingers through Kara’s hair as she sings to her. Her voice is hoarse from disuse, slightly off-key. The words are stilted, her tongue tripping over half-remembered Kryptonese as she sings a lullaby she hasn’t needed to sing in years.

It’s not long before she’s leaning her head against the cabinet door behind her, Kara dozing in her lap. It reminds her of when they were kids, when she’d end up catching up on her reading for school on Sunday mornings after Kara had finally fallen asleep.

The nightmares had been bad then, almost as bad as they are now, but at least she’d been able to figure out what had caused them. Now, now she doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what drives them, keeps them in Kara’s mind when she should be healing.

It frustrates her, prevents her from moving on, from getting back to trying to solve the problem of her father and C.A.D.M.U.S. because Kara is so much more important, so much larger than either of those issues. She’s so much more than any of them and seeing her like this? Seeing her so far gone that she won’t speak? That she’d willingly torture herself?

It makes her see red, makes her want to find whatever hurt Kara and do something other than what she’s doing now.

* * *

 

She pushes her way into the training room, settles her back against the wall as she examines Astra. The older Kryptonian is cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed as she breathes slowly. Kara had once told her that meditation was something she’d never quite gotten the hang of, not like her aunt had, and Alex has to wonder just what someone like Astra finds in it, what she looks for.

“You’re very loud even when you’re quiet, Agent Danvers.”

Alex flinches a little, wonders how she knows that it’s her, that it’s not someone else come in to disturb her. It surprises her enough that she actually asks.

“Your scent. My niece is all over you, much in the same way I’ve long learnt that lovers’ scents usually are with each other on this planet.”

“I…”

She doesn’t know what to say, how to deny it when Kara had been pressed against her only the night before, when she’d pressed her into Kara’s bed, pushed her until she was gasping her name, only ever her name. She doesn’t know how to deny it when she’s constantly pushing down the panic of having given into her, having slept with Kara when she’s so vulnerable, so out of it that she can’t look at anyone without seeing through them now.

Astra snorts.

“Of course. Sisters on this planet is a word used so often to describe so many forms of relationships that it must mean almost nothing now. Your people don’t value the closeness that should be associated with it, the level of intimacy that comes with having someone who knows your mind, loves you not out of obligation but because they can without any form of sexual attraction attached to it.”

“That’s not true.”

“Perhaps you think it’s not, but let me ask you this, Alexandra. Why call someone your sister, someone not of your blood, if they have the level of intimacy that is only marginally more than that of casual acquaintances?”

“Not all humans see it that way.”

“Of course not, but not all humans show the physiological signs of attraction to my niece, either. A word of advice, Agent? Hurt her and you’ll know the true wrath of Krypton for one of its own.”

Alex swallows. “I understand.”

Astra opens her eyes, pins her to the wall with a look almost as piercing as her own mother’s. It makes her shift, run her fingers along the butt of her gun where it’s strapped against her thigh.

“Do you? Do you really understand what taking a risk with you means to my niece, Alexandra?” Astra gets up, starts stalking towards her before thinking about it and withdrawing. “She wishes to fit in, to blend into this planet’s population so thoroughly that even as her alter ego, no one would connect Kara Danvers to their saviour in that gaudy costume of hers. Being with you? Giving in to her every instinct and bedding you so thoroughly that her scent runs deeper in yours than it usually does? It doesn’t let her do that.”

She throws a bo staff at Alex, who catches it, turns it over in her hand. She understands what Astra wants, what she’s pulling her into. She wants to say no, to tell her that she won’t take this from Kara, but it’s been a while since she’s fought someone other than J’onn, since she’s met an alien on their own ground without being afraid of breaking, of dying.

“I get it.” Her staff clashes against Astra’s, sends a tremor down her arm, but she doesn’t back down from the challenge. “I’ve spent enough of my life protecting Kara to know what this will do to her if anyone finds out, but I can’t stop her.”

“You’re supposed to.”

“Would you? She comes back to me from training, _bleeding_ because you won’t stop her from trying to kill herself like this.” She kicks out, not at Astra, not at the wall of steel and flesh that she’s learnt to avoid after her leg, but at her staff, uses it to break out of the hold Astra has on her and her weapon. “You’re one to talk. Every time I have to treat her it just gets worse. Like you don’t care what you’re doing to your niece so long as you can actually do it.”

Alex sneers, uses Astra’s weight against her like J’onn had drilled into her muscles time and time again. She knows she can’t win, knows that this woman isn’t like the others she’s fought. She’s as much a soldier as her, as J’onn, and she knows how to fight better than most people.

Pressing her foot against the staff again, she uses it to deliver a blow to Astra’s chin. She watches the woman stagger back for a second, more from surprise than from pain, waits for her to approach.

Astra stalks, reminds her so much of Kara on red kryptonite that it sends fear stabbing its way down her back. It makes her tremble with the need to run, primal prey instincts taking over where she’s usually the predator. It’s different this time, different because it’s Kara, always Kara and Alex can’t do anything to defend herself from this woman’s judgement.

Still, it doesn’t stop her from trying, doesn’t stop her from clashing against her time and time again until an arm is wrapping around her, pulling her away as J’onn plucks the staff from her hand. She turns to confront her new opponent, collapses against the solid weight of Kara as she presses her close, forces her out of the room.

* * *

 

That night, with Kara’s bare skin on hers, she thinks about what Astra’s said, thinks about the way she might be hurting more than helping by letting this happen. Every instinct is screaming at her to run, to do as Astra had asked without saying and just walk away, but she can’t.

Kara’s too much, too ingrained in her bones for her to let go. It’s not healthy, not for either of them, but she needs Kara by her side, can’t do this without her now when she knows what it’s like to lose her again and again and again.

“’Lex?”

She looks down, grimaces when a hand presses her face, pushes her head back. She licks the skin there, giggles when Kara pulls away in disgust.

“Gross, ‘Lex.”

“Yeah, well. You’re supposed to be asleep, Kara.”

Kara pats her head sleepily, leaving Alex feeling a little like a kid being reprimanded.

“Thinking too much. Sleep, ‘Lex.”

Alex snorts, amused.

“Since when do you care if I’m thinking too much? Thought it was encouraged?”

Kara groans.

“Sleepy, ‘Lex. Different now.”

Alex sighs. Kara sounds so sad like this, so defeated that she can’t help but pull her closer, close her eyes as she rubs her back. It’ll be better in the morning. It has to be.


	5. Chapter 5

She turns, curls into Alex in the morning sunlight. Her broken arm is, thankfully, not under her, a dead weight on her side as she whimpers into Alex’s skin, hides away from the light as much as she can. She struggles, tries to pull the covers up over her, but they slip from her grasp and she has to curse in Kryptahniuo.

Her grip is still too weak, still not good enough. It makes her want to scream, to run and run and run, to hit something until she bleeds. That she can even bleed now, can be hurt, doesn’t matter anymore, only that she feels like she’ll never be good enough, never be right again.

It hurts, hurts and hurts and hurts to think of it. It hurts to think that she’ll never be Supergirl again, never be able to fulfill the mission she’d been given when she’d been sent to Earth. It hurts to think that even the purpose she’d given herself, the calling she’d taken up, has been taken by her in such a way that she can’t do anything anymore.

She’s shaking when she feels the hand on her back, body trembling with a pain she thinks is imaginary. Alex pulls her close and Kara goes to her, clutches at her. She needs her in that moment, needs the solid weight of her body leaning against her as she tries and fails to find her balance.

“Come on, Kara. You’re having a panic attack. I need you to follow my breathing. Follow my heart like you used to.”

Kara grips her as tightly as she can, sniffles as she tries to find her heart and fails.

“Shit! Right, forgot. I’m so sorry, Kar. Come here.” Alex pulls her close, positions them so that Kara’s ear is on her chest and she can hear the faint beat of her heart. “Hear that now? Focus on that for me, okay? Focus on my heart.”

Kara listens, tries to focus her hearing on that faint beating. She follows it, traces the path she knows the blood will travel from Alex’s heart with her fingers. She can hear the hitch of Alex’s breath but she doesn’t care in that moment, continues to skim over her skin slowly, carefully.

“Fragile…” Her voice is harsh, gravelly with sleep as she whispers the word into her muscles, presses a kiss to Alex’s chest. “So fragile…”

She can feel her stiffen beneath her but she pays it no mind, lets her fingers and mind wander across Alex’s body as she tries to figure out what to do now. The answer isn’t quite apparent but she finds it anyway, sees it in the planes of her stomach, the curve and dip of her biceps where they meet her elbow.

* * *

 

She clings to Alex as they walk into the D.E.O., refuses to let go of her even though she knows that she should. There’s something inside of her that won’t heal, won’t be whole again without her and Kara needs this, needs Alex to feel like a small part of herself has returned to her.

She can’t focus as she walks, needs her help to move even the smallest fraction. It’s humiliating but she’s long since past that, gone past the point at which she should care. All she wants is to escape now, to get away from all of this and just forget, but she can’t.

Kara has a duty, has something inside of her that drives her to this point of action, of doing what needs to be done even when she feels like the very air inside of her is escaping. She has this need inside of her that pushes her to do more than she needs to, to be more than she already is.

When they get to the lab, Kara pushes Alex into a chair and curls up on her lap, clutches at her clothes until she can’t see for the tears that fall. She wants to be, wants to go back to her old self. She’s powerless now, so, so powerless and it should be a relief, but it isn’t.

Everything hurts. Every breath, every movement is a reminder of something lost, something precious taken from her. Alex is all she has left now, all she has to herself and she refuses to let go of her, refuses to lose her to whatever it is that Telos has planned for her, if he has anything planned.

“It’s okay, Kara.” Alex rubs her back, tries to lie to her but she shakes her head. “Come on. It is okay. You’re here. You’re alive and with me, in my lap right now.”

She shakes her head harder. It’s not okay, never going to be okay. She knows that, knows it in a deep part of her that refuses to let go of the knowledge that a part of her is gone, that her body has been violated in a way that no one else she knows has been.

“Hurts,” she says. “Everything hurts, Alex.”

“I know, Kar. I know it hurts, but you have to push forward, baby. You have to start healing. For me and for your aunt, but most of all, for you. You need to recover and start moving forward.” Her fingers skim the bandages around Kara’s arm. “You need to stop hurting yourself. It’s not good for you.”

She nods, knows that she can’t keep going on like this no matter how much she wants to. It’s impossible to keep going like this, but she can’t help herself, can’t stop herself from hurting no matter how much she tries.

“Promise me. Please Kara. I need you to promise me that you won’t hurt yourself like this anymore. If you get injured, come to me or go to medical. Don’t just push through it and pretend like it’s not there anymore. You need to stop hurting yourself like this.”

Kara hesitates and then nods. She doesn’t really want to promise this, but she doesn’t want to hurt Alex anymore. She doesn’t want to make her feel sad if she can stop the pain. Alex is too important, too integral to every part of her for her to just give up and do nothing.

“Okay, Alex. I promise.”

She kisses her slowly then, presses her body against Alex. She needs this, needs her in a way she has never been allowed. She needs her in a way that she’s never quite been given and all she can do is hope that everything works out for them.

Her hand moves from her shirt to the back of Alex’s neck, cups it as she pulls her closer, always closer. She needs her, needs Alex more and more as she touches her. She needs her to respond.

Her kiss tastes like salt when Alex runs her hand up Kara’s back and pushes her into her. She cries as she moves, cries as she presses her lips against her jaw, her neck.

“Kara, Kara not here.”

She doesn’t look at her, pulls away and curls back into Alex. It hurts but not enough for her to not crave her touch, to not want to be held. When Alex’s arms wrap around her, she lets herself break, lets herself fall apart against her as she tries and tries to find her center and fails.

She can’t help the tears that fall, can’t help but be weak with Alex, with the only person who can understand what she feels. She can’t help but want to crawl inside of her, where it’s safe, warm, comforting.

Alex is the only one who can make her feel like that, the only one who can keep her from feeling like everything is crumbling beneath her. She’s the only one who is safe, who makes her feel whole when everything else feels like it takes piece after piece away from her.

“You’re safe, Kara. You’re okay.”

Alex repeats it like a mantra, like saying it enough times might make it true, but Kara knows better, knows how unsafe she is, how much she is very much not okay. She knows how much she hurts and how much she is in danger of hurting herself, of dying now that she is no longer invulnerable, heals as a human does.

She wants to wail, to tell Alex that her mantra means nothing, but she can’t. Alex is safety, is warmth and comfort and everything she needs and she can’t lose that, can’t allow herself to fall apart without her.

Slowly, she comes back to herself, pulls away from Alex. She doesn’t want to, but she needs to train, needs to make herself better before she can be the kind of person Alex will kiss in public, the kind of person she wants to be with always.

* * *

 

She picks up the glass, holds it in her hand three inches from the desk. One second passes, two. Kara manages to get to ten before it’s falling out of her hand, hitting the wood with a thud that echoes in the silence of the office.

She can’t look at J’onn, can’t face the expression of pity he must be wearing. Instead, she picks up the glass, tries again. She manages to make it to twelve seconds before it slips out of her hand again.

She growls, falls back into a chair with her head in her hands. Kara isn’t sure how much longer she can do this, how much longer she can try and fail before she breaks apart again. She doesn’t want to but she thinks of quitting, of running and hiding somewhere she doesn’t have to face this again.

“You’re getting better, but it takes time, Kara.”

“I don’t have time. People need a hero now.”

J’onn doesn’t say anything, stares at her until she looks away. Not for the first time, she’s glad that Telos has left her mental abilities intact, has left her with a barrier between her mind and J’onn’s telepathy.

She doesn’t want him to see her despair, doesn’t want him to see the way she can’t do this anymore, can’t make herself do any of this. She just wants to stop, to be herself again, but nothing is right. Nothing is as it was before and it’s all she can to stay safe, to stay sane when everything in her screams to shatter.

She doesn’t want him to see her if she decides to give up, to give in to the words in her head telling her that she’s not good enough, that she can’t be good. The words tell her that she isn’t a _hero_ anymore and all she can do is hurt, is let the pain consume her in that moment because it’s not enough to take away her powers. Telos has taken her _purpose_.

She doesn’t realise she’s crying, that she’s shaking, until J’onn is holding her, rocking her back and forth as his arms wrap around her protectively. She holds onto him then, listens to the Martian he speaks, so different from her Krytahniuo but still so soothing because it’s him, it’s J’onn, and all he’s ever tried to do is help her, protect her.

She breaks in that office, breaks so completely that she has to wonder if there’s anything left of her to shatter when the pain hits anew. She has to wonder if there’s anything left of her to pull apart, to destroy again. She falls apart in his arms because there’s nowhere else to go.

She can’t let Alex see her like this, can’t let her see her so completely gone that even her will to live is seeping out of her. Alex won’t let her fall, won’t let her crack open the way she needs to in that moment because Alex’s instinct is to protect her, always to protect her and dry away the tears when she should let them go.

She knows this, loves her for this dearly, but at that moment all Alex can do is harm, and Kara is tired of hurting. She’s tired, so very tired, and she wants desperately to shatter because that’s the only way she knows how to come back to her.


	6. Chapter 6

Alex watches with narrowed eyes as Kara takes hit after hit. She’s no longer reckless but there’s a calculated air about it, as if she’s enjoying this. She watches Kara fall, watches the way she grunts and forces herself up, and re-evaluates that thought. No, she’s not enjoying it, not in the least.

Rather, she’s feeding off of it, coming alive with each hit that she takes. It’s frustrating and sickening to watch, something that tugs at her and makes her want to throw up, but she can’t. She’d promised that she’d stay and watch, promised her that she’d be there at the end of it all and she needs to keep that promise, needs to stay until Kara and Astra finish.

She winces when Kara goes down again, has to fight her natural urge to go to her, to stand in front of her and block Astra’s blows with her own body. She’s not unaccustomed to this feeling, not in the least after years and years of protecting Kara, but she has to hold herself back like always, has to stop herself before she does something she regrets.

Kara wouldn’t want it anyway, wouldn’t want her to put herself between them. This is her safe place now, the place where she can be something truer to herself now than she’s been in a long time. This is the place where she can rebuild herself into something she thinks is better, something she thinks is stronger than before.

Alex disagrees, thinks that all of this only serves to keep her sister docile, thinks that it’s nothing but a placebo. Kara needs more than this, needs something better, stronger than what she has now if she is to succeed at doing what she needs to do in order to come back to herself.

When blood appears on her t-shirt, Alex steps in, counters Astra’s blow with a bo staff that she grabs at the last minute. She grits her teeth at the force of the impact, forces a smirk when Astra raises an eyebrow.

“Alex…”

She doesn’t turn, doesn’t dare look at Kara when Astra is looking at her like prey, but she forces a smirk she doesn’t feel, tries to keep her voice steady. She doesn’t know if she succeeds, but she tries anyway.

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun, Kara.”

There’s a huff of a laugh behind her, a hand gripping her shirt as Kara uses her as leverage to stand. She stays still, lets her do as she wants, as she’s wont to do now that Kara’s come back.

Alex furrows her brows. She doesn’t think she’s actually stopped Kara from doing anything in a long time, doesn’t think she’s done anything but indulge her whims since her return from space.

It’s not healthy, she knows that, not something that she should be doing, but she can’t help herself. This is Kara. This is the one person who’s more important to her than anyone else and she needs to make sure she’s happy, needs to give her anything and everything that keeps her sane and grounded when she’s lost so much already.

She feels her move next to her, feels the hand on the staff, ready to make her drop it, but she doesn’t let go. If Kara fights then Alex will fight too, will do what she can to help her. She can’t just let her do this alone.

Astra surveys them, backs off and gets into another stance. Alex narrows her eyes again, watches the way her muscles move beneath her shirt. Underestimating her could be dangerous, could lead to a fatal flaw that she can’t get away from. Just because this is training doesn’t mean she’ll go easy on them and Alex needs to remember that.

“Alex, back up.”

“No way.” She presses forward, step by step until she’s a few paces ahead of Kara. “You’re injured, I’m not. It only makes sense that I take point on this part of your fight.”

She can feel Kara rolling her eyes behind her and she has to ask herself when did her sister become so rude. It’s not an unusual occurrence, not between the two of them at least, but she doesn’t remember the last time Kara had reacted with anything but laughter, tears, or apathy.

“You’re going to be the one who gets injured if you don’t let me get to the front.” Kara’s words are followed by a huff. “I can take care of myself.”

Alex shakes her head with a small smile, drops the staff a little. Of course this would be when the old Kara chooses to show herself, old mixed in with a little of the new. She can’t say exactly what it is that makes her smile, just that it’s there, that it’s inherent in her voice and the way she can sense her moving behind her.

This, too, is new, is something she’s never really had before. Even at human speeds, Kara never telegraphed her moves like this, never had to bend towards everything that makes Alex human to give her presence away. This is something different, something that might have worried her in the past had it been anyone else, but she knows better.

She knows that this is Kara healing, knows that her sister is moving towards something new. She knows that, knows the way she can be when she forgets herself, but she’s happy that Kara is _trying_ when she hadn’t been doing anything at all before.

Astra stares. “Can you two take this seriously? The seconds you’ve just wasted could mean life or death on the battlefield.”

Alex is the one to roll her eyes this time, raising her staff once more. Trust the nigh invincible Kryptonian to be the dramatic one, to be the one to cite battlefields and death when they’re only training.

Still, she thinks as she rushes her, staff in front of her, she does have a point.

* * *

 

Alex falls back onto the bed, breathing harder than she did during training. She grins, looking over at Kara, who is breathing just as hard, maybe harder.

“You okay there, Kara?”

Kara turns, smiles at her for a second before pouncing on her. She laughs, wrapping her arms around her neck. It’s weird, being with her like this, but Kara needs it, needs her to be something she’s fought against for so long and how can she say no when she’s lost so much? How can she deny her this when the universe seems determined to take everything away from her more often than it gives her something?

She can’t say no, can’t deny her if it means taking this smile away. She can’t deny her anything when she gets to see the brilliance she’s missed shine through so easily in these moments when it’s just them, when it’s just the two of them being together like this in the privacy of their apartments.

“Hey you.”

Kara grins, ducks her head to press a kiss against Alex’s lips. She wants to resist, wants to pull away and run, but she can’t forget Astra’s warning, can’t forget the way Kara reaches for her in the dark when all she wants is someone to hold her, to comfort her when the world presses in on her.

“Hey.” She kisses Alex’s bare skin, presses her hips down as she moves. “Is this…is this okay? Are you okay?”

Alex moans a little, grips Kara’s head and pulls her back up. “No more, please. You’ve completely worn me out.”

Kara grins at her, kisses her again, and Alex has to give in, to roll them both over until Kara is gasping beneath her as she pushes her fingers into her. She’s so wet, so willing and ready for her that she can’t help but want to make love to her, can’t help but want to fuck her when she’s so pliant beneath her.

She kisses her skin, bites down on her neck, and Kara bucks into her, raises her hips seeking more contact. She grins against her skin, sucks hard as she thrusts into her and pulls out in a steady rhythm. Her mind keeps telling her that this is wrong, that this is something she should stop doing, but Alex can’t help herself, can’t help but get lost in everything that Kara is and everything she needs her to be.

“I love you,” she whispers as she fucks her. “I love you so much and I’d fight myself if it meant that I could give you everything you wanted.”

Kara whines under her, moans with each thrust in, raises her hips every time she pulls out. Alex bites and sucks and licks her skin, leaves as many marks as she can before she stops, before Kara comes with her name on her lips and even then, her mouth doesn’t leave her skin, lips staying on her collarbone as she whispers her promises into her skin.

Kara grips her hair, pulls her up and closer until their lips are brushing, but Alex doesn’t stop. She can’t stop herself from making those promises when she knows that every minute with Kara is important, is vital to every part of her being. She can’t stop herself from making promises she may never be able to keep but wants to anyway because this is Kara. This is her life and love and she can’t just let her go.

She nuzzles her after, when the last word has been uttered and there’s nothing left but to show her that her words aren’t just for show. She can run later, promises herself that she’ll run later, but right now she wants this closeness, needs this closeness. She needs to be near Kara as much as possible, now that she has her back.

Kara runs her fingers through her hair, looks at her. There’s something in those eyes, something behind the bright blue that makes her shake, makes her tremble with something like a mix of excitement and fear. She reaches down, presses a kiss to her forehead and scratches the back of her neck as she thinks about all the ways they’ve changed over the years, thinks about what this kind of change means for them now that they’ve embraced it.

* * *

 

The scotch burns on its way down, a hot, rough thing that she knows comes from how cheap it is. Still, Alex can’t help but drain her glass, motion to the bartender to pour her another. She needs this, needs the sting of the alcohol to get through this meeting before she can go back to her apartment, back to Kara and everything that’s waiting for her in that bed.

Her drinking partner also orders another scotch, matching her drink for drink in her pseudo-bender. She’d be impressed but people like her are easy to spot, all glamour and glitter on the outside with a core bitterness that never actually goes away no matter how hard they try to forget.

She glances at her, smirks when she sees her eyes cloud over briefly before clearing. She’s good at this but Alex is better, has had more experience with chasing her bitterness to the bottom of a bottle. She’s had enough experience pulling herself out of it, rebuilding herself enough that Kara would never suspect and she has to wonder if this woman does too, if she knows how to hide from her sister the way Alex does so well.

A hand comes down between them and steals her glass, the owner drinking the rest of her scotch before ordering another. Alex scrunches her nose and steals the glass back before making room for her at the bar.

“You’re late, Lane.”

“Uh huh. You try convincing the higher ups at work that we need a powerless asset who can’t seem to understand that spilling her own blood is a _bad_ thing.”

“Is she still doing that?”

“Was there a time when she wasn’t?” Lucy shakes her head. “I know you’re new here, Luthor, but even you must have noticed that she’s more self-sacrificing than her more popular cousin. Makes me wish that he’d been the one that was hit, not her.”

Alex raises her glass.

“I’ll drink to that.”

Lena does the same, downing her drink in one. Lucy whistles, clearly impressed, before drinking her own more slowly. When they both raise their eyebrows at her, she shrugs.

“It’s not expensive but that doesn’t mean I’m going to guzzle it like I just lost my entire family.”

Alex flinches, noting the way Lena does too. She knows her story, knows the way she sneers any time someone compares her to her brother now, but it’s still oddly reassuring to see her reaction to the little reminders of her status. It makes her seem human, makes her seem like less of a figurehead and more of a person.

That this is the person Kara doesn’t see doesn’t bother her, doesn’t affect her as much as she thinks it should. This Lena is someone she wants to keep away from her, wants to protect her from. This version of her with her self-deprecation and destructive moods is someone who could only destroy Kara, not build her back up the way she needs to be.

Lucy looks at both of them and rolls her eyes. Alex has to force herself not to react, has to remind herself that she’s spread thin over both bases, managing everything while J’onn smooths things over with whatever cosmic forces Superman has messed with when he got Kara hurt. She has to remind herself that she means nothing by it, that this is just the way she is.

Still, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean that she’d rather be alone with Lena and their shared bitterness than judged for her drinking habits by an army brat with a xenophobic father who’d see her dead before he helped her.

Alex throws back another drink at that thought, clinks her glass against Lena’s and orders another. She doesn’t think she should be drinking this much but she doesn’t care, not when her mind keeps replaying the last couple of days, keeps making her think she can smell Kara when she turns, can hear her laughter behind her.

She can’t keep doing this, she knows, can’t keep pushing it aside until she can’t do anything but drink and drink and drink, but she has to. She has to push it down, to keep Kara happy no matter what. She has to be there, has to provide what she wants and needs no matter what her mind is telling her to do.

She shakes her head. Alex can’t keep thinking about this. She can’t keep wondering and hesitating with her sister when she knows that she needs her to be sure, needs her to be alright with all of this before she loses something even more vital to who she is. Alex doesn’t know what that is, doesn’t know why that is, but she knows that she can’t let her lose that, can’t let her go back to the girl she was when she first started recovering.

She can’t allow that, can’t let her do that to herself when she knows that Kara has more important things to think about, has more important things to do. Her sister might be without her powers but she’s determined to push past her limits and continue her work, to continue being the hero that Alex knows Kara has never given up on being.

“To superheroes that never give up,” she says, raising her glass as she comes out of her thoughts, “and the stubbornness that keeps them from being safe. May it one day kick their ass and teach them to be careful.”

Lucy and Lena raise their glasses in agreement. The toast is meant as a joke, but a mean part of her wishes that it comes true, wishes that all of her injuries actually lead to Kara being careful, rather than to her losing her life. She doesn’t know what she would do if that were to happen, only that she can’t let it, can’t allow her to lose when everything rides on Kara being _safe_.

Not that she’s ever been safe round her, Alex thinks. Not that she’s ever been safe since the day she landed, since Superman had decided that he couldn’t handle the responsibility of a girl who needed him and left her to be Kara’s rock.

No, Kara has never been safe, has never been fortunate enough to live with the knowledge that she could be free, could be herself. Kara has never had that, Alex knows, has never been allowed to have that in a world that would see her punished for simply being alive when she knows Kara is better than that, better than half the people allowed to have rights in this godforsaken country.

She looks at Lena and pokes her in her chest. “You are Kara’s best friend after me and Lucy.”

“Um, yes?”

Alex waves away her confusion, motioning for the bartender to get her a bottle of water that she drinks quickly. Looking at Lena and Lucy, she wonders if she can do this, but she doesn’t really have a choice, not when it’s Kara at stake, not when it’s her sister who needs this more than anything right now.

“Ladies, we’re gathered here because Superman took away one of the best things in our lives and it’s up to me to rebuild her.” She looks them both squarely in the eyes. “I need your help because right now? We’re at a standstill.”

“You’re starting to sound like me,” Lucy says slowly, looking at her suspiciously. “How much have you had to drink tonight Danvers?”

“Not enough,” she mumbles before straightening up. “Look, you’re two of Kara’s best friends and right now? Winn and James? Their Superman worship means they’re completely out of the question. I can’t do this on my own anymore and I need help.”

Before Lucy can reply to that, Lena holds up a hand. For some reason, Alex is grateful for that, is grateful that she seems to get how important this is.

“Tell us what you need.”


	7. Chapter 7

Lena is talking quickly as she sets the food out in front of her, saying something about her newest invention, but she can’t really listen to her. She keeps wondering where Alex is, keeps wondering if she will come to her, if she will come back from work in time for her to hold onto before everything goes wrong.

There’s a part of her that knows she should be paying attention, a part of her that knows that she should listen to Lena, but she can’t focus, can’t concentrate on the words being directed at her. She feels bad, knows that she should focus on her, but Kara can’t keep her mind from wandering back to Alex over and over again.

Lena nudges her as she sits and Kara tumbles to the side a little. She’s never realized how strong her friend must be, how much time she spends at the gym despite being so busy. It had surprised her when she’d first found out, but that seems like ages ago, seems like another place and another time when she had been someone else, someone better than who she is now.

“Earth to Kara. Are you there? Are you paying attention?”

“I…sorry. I guess I was a little distracted. What were you saying?”

She giggles a little, hands Kara a container of potstickers as she picks up her own pineapple chicken. Kara wrinkles her nose as she takes a bite, tastes the vegetables in her food. She places it down delicately, picks up the beef and noodles and starts eating. Lena snort, eyes narrowed on the chopsticks in her hand.

“Vegetables won’t kill you, Kara. In fact, they might even do some more good now.”

She shakes her head. “I doubt that. My powers are gone but my basic biology hasn’t changed that much.”

Lena grins. “And there she is. You haven’t spoken that much in quite some time.”

“I…haven’t?”

She doesn’t remember the last time she’d spoken so much, the last time she’d seen anyone besides Alex and the rest of the D.E.O. It’s been a long time, she thinks, a long while since she’s done anything but train and sleep. It’s been a long time since she’s done anything at all.

“You haven’t, but that’s beside the point. I was saying that we should go out tomorrow, get you dancing. Who knows? We might even find someone to warm your bed for a night.”

Kara’s eyes widen and she shakes her head vigorously. She doesn’t want anyone else, doesn’t want to replace Alex with someone she doesn’t know, someone faceless who doesn’t care, doesn’t know what she wants or likes or hates. She just wants Alex, just wants the woman she grew up with for so long and now that she has her, she’s not willing to give her up for anything or anyone.

“Okay, okay. So one night stands are off the table. You should at least go dancing, enjoy yourself a little.”

“I don’t know, Lena. It doesn’t sound like something I’d enjoy right now with the way I am.”

Lena huffs, nudges her again. She grins at her a little and watches the tension leak out of her friend gradually. She doesn’t want to go out, but she doesn’t want to say no either, doesn’t want to disappoint Lena when she came all this way just for her. She doesn’t want to watch her walk out of the room with her refusal ringing in her ears.

She tilts a little, wraps her good arm around Lena’s shoulders and squeezes for a moment. She appreciates what she’s doing, she really does, but she can’t help the way she is, can’t help the way she feels at the moment.

“You’re a good friend,” she says, instead of voicing that. “I promise, when I’m better, we’ll go out. Just…not now.”

Lena nods, leans into her a little. She lets herself sink into her warmth, lets herself enjoy the company for the little while that she can. She’s not sure how long this will last, not sure how long Lena will stay before she gets tired of her. She’s not sure how long it will be until Lena leaves and she doesn’t want to risk it, doesn’t want to push her before she decides to go on her own.

* * *

 

When Alex gets back, Lena is sleeping against her. It’s late and Kara is staring blankly at the television, not really processing anything that’s going on. She thinks she had fun, thinks that the evening was okay, but there’s something inside of her that seems to cower at the thought of interacting with anyone besides Alex, something that balks at the idea.

Her sister moves slowly, helps her to get Lena settled on the couch before pulling her into her room and helping her to get changed for bed. She goes willingly, holds onto Alex’s shirt as she moves until Alex is pushing her down onto the bed, pulling the covers over her. She feels like a scared child in that moment, feels like someone who can’t do anything on her own anymore.

It might be accurate, might describe her in the beginning, but now she feels uncomfortable with that, feels like she should be doing more, should just be more than she actually is. It hurts, that knowledge, hurts more than she wants Alex to know, but she can’t help herself, can’t help but feel the utter uselessness of her existence in that moment.

She sighs, nuzzles Alex when she joins her, fingers skimming the sliver of skin that’s not covered by her raised t-shirt. She wants more, needs more, but Lena is in the other room and she can’t do much, can’t do anything with her friend there, out in the open when all she wants is to make Alex scream, make her feel more than she likes to pretend she can.

“Hey you,” Alex says, hand grabbing Kara’s wrist gently. “Not tonight, okay? Tomorrow I’m all yours. We have the entire day to do what we want, but not tonight.”

“The entire day? With no interruptions? Nothing to stop us?”

She feels energetic now, feels more active than she’s ever felt before at the prospect of time with Alex, with her heart. She wants this, wants more than anything to believe her when she says that they’ll have their time, but she’s not sure she can, not sure she believes her when everything conspires against them, threatens to tear her away from Kara whenever they’re alone.

“I promise I won’t be called away.” Alex cups her cheek, caresses the skin beneath her palm as Kara leans closer. “I even made Lucy promise to prevent J’onn from calling me in on pain of hiding all of his Chocos.”

“Alex…”

She grins, pulls her closer. Kara clings to her clothes, inhales and lets herself drown in her scent as she curls into her. She wants her, wants her more than anything or anyone else in the world, but she doesn’t know how to express that. She doesn’t know how to tell her that when everything in her is screaming to hold her close and never let go, to not even give Alex the option of getting away.

She knows it’s wrong, knows that she shouldn’t be like this, but she can’t help herself. She can’t help the want she feels whenever she’s around her. She can’t help that she needs Alex, needs her more than she needs to eat, to breathe. She can’t help the way she needs her to live.

“Please…”

Kara doesn’t know what she’s asking for, only that Alex will give it to her if she asks. She doesn’t know what she wants besides her, but she doesn’t care. Alex is all that matters, all that she’s decided should matter to her in this world where she is powerless, where she is nothing to no one but her.

“Hey, I’m here, okay? I’m not leaving you, I promise. Just…we can’t. Not tonight. Lena is here, remember?”

She sighs, presses closer to Alex and hugs her with her good arm. She knows that, remembers that all too well, but she doesn’t want to care. She doesn’t want to do much of anything except touch Alex, press close against her and just feel something other than the numbness that clouds over all her feelings all the time.

“Okay, but tomorrow you’re…you’re mine. I can’t…I can’t do this alone.”

“I know, Kara. I’m right here for you. I’ll always be here for you, my love.”

She nuzzles her, presses her head against Alex’s shoulder as she shakes. She knows that, knows that Alex would never leave her but she needs this, needs the proof that she won’t leave, even if it is just the verbal reassurance that Alex is giving her now. She knows that she’s not ready, that she probably isn’t ever going to be ready, but she’ll take it, will take anything that her sister is willing to give her in that moment.

Kara tangles their fingers together, presses their hands over her heart. She can’t hear Alex’s anymore, needs to feel her in some other way. She needs to be sure that she’s there, that she’s alive and safe and everything that she needs to know that she’s fine.

It’s all she can do to not press closer, to not take what she wants. She needs to remind herself that she can’t do anything when Lena is there, when she can be caught. People won’t understand, won’t get what she sees in Alex, but she doesn’t need them to when, in the dark of night, this is all she needs for anything.

“You’re mine,” she whispers instead. “You’re mine and you’ll always be mine.”

“Kara…”

“Promise me, Alex. Promise me that you’re mine, that no one else can have you the way I do. I need you to promise me.”

“Kara, please…”

“I’m begging you.” Her voice is weak, her eyes watering. “Please just…just promise me that you’re mine.”

Alex surges forward, kisses her then. She tastes like scotch and something else, something metallic that she doesn’t realise is blood until she’s pulling back, lip bleeding as she tries to wipe it away. Kara reaches up, runs her finger along her lip until she stains it red.

“I hurt you,” she whispers. Part of her feels dismayed, feels something close to regret for this, but the other part of her can’t help but revel in it, can’t help but take some pleasure in this. “I made you bleed.”

She stares at the blood on her fingers, brings it up to her eyes for a closer look. She can’t help but marvel at it, can’t help but wonder at the fact that this came out of Alex, that this is what keeps her, keeps Kara, keeps everyone alive. She can’t help but marvel at the fact that it’s so easy to draw it out, to make someone bleed.

She looks at Alex, traces her lips again before pulling her in, pulling her on top of her body as she kisses her, tastes her once more. She can’t get enough of her, can’t stop tasting Alex. She wants more, needs more of her, but she has to be careful, can’t take what she wants as long as Lena is here.

Kara curses herself then, lets loose a string of Kryptahniuo she remembers from her aunt, from days spent among soldiers who forgot to watch their mouths whenever she visited. She can feel Alex’s eyes on her, can feel the amusement she must be watching her with, arms around her, wrapping her up and making her smile against her as she twists, turns them so that she’s on top, her lips pressed to her neck.

“K-Kara…what…?”

“Want you…need you…”

She can’t help herself, can’t stop herself from brushing her skin with her teeth. Alex bucks into her then, gasps out her name before Kara remembers to clamp a hand over her mouth, remembers that she needs to stop Alex from making a single sound that might ruin their night, wake Lena before she can stop her from gasping out for her.

“You’re…you’re kidding right?” Alex says with a grin when Kara lets her go, lets her pull her close. “We’re…we’re going to do this? Really?”

Kara doesn’t answer, leans down to kiss her again, and Alex nips at her lip, pulls it when she pulls away. She runs her fingers through Kara’s hair, lets her do what she wants for a moment before pushing her away, pushing her down onto the bed and biting her neck hard.

Kara gasps, drags her nails down Alex’s back. Alex has to bite her shoulder to stop moaning, making Kara grin. She loves this, loves making Alex lose control so much that she has to find new ways to stop herself from letting go. She loves that she’s the only one who gets to see her like this, who gets to draw this part of her out.

“K-Kara…we have…we have to be…to be careful.”

She doesn’t reply, lets her hand slip down. Tonight, they will have fun, one way or another.

* * *

 

Alex groans next to her as the sun filters through her curtains. Kara covers her head with a pillow and pats Alex’s arm, pulling the covers over both of them. They’re both too tired to face the morning and Kara doesn’t want to abandon her bed in favour of getting up.

She doesn’t want to face the day, not even when the smell of coffee wafts through the apartment, though that doesn’t stop Alex from herding her into the kitchen. She huffs, lets her do what she wants. There’s nothing that can really stand between her and her coffee, even when that thing is Kara.

She sighs, lets herself be pushed along until she’s sitting at the table with a steaming mug in front of her. She’s too tired to be in the mood for food, but she eats anyway, chews slowly as she watches the way Alex and Lena move around each other as they try to figure out Kara’s kitchen.

She shakes her head, bangs it lightly against the table as she tries and fails to wake up. She doesn’t want to miss this, doesn’t want to miss a single moment of these two driven women trying to operate her stove when she knows that Alex can’t cook.

There’s a spatula being shoved in her face and Kara pulls back, surprised. Her eyes rise up to Alex, eyebrow raised as she tries to figure out what she wants.

“Get up. Find us your food. I refuse to believe that I raised you to have a fridge full of ice cream and nothing else.”

Kara yawns. “Technically, neither of us can cook, so it’s not like I should be expected to have any actual food in there.”

“I know for a fact that when Lucy was your roommate she taught you to at least make breakfast, so find us the food we need to get through the day, Kara.”

She grumbles as she gets up, digs out eggs and bacon and the pancake batter Lucy had taught her to mix when she’d lived with her. Sleepily, she hands them to Alex and Lena before going back to her perch, making it there before she slumps over quickly and closes her eyes. She doesn’t want to wake up and the table is nice and cool.

“Nope. You don’t get to do that, sleepy head.”

She groans, swats at Alex’s arm uselessly. She keeps missing but she doesn’t let that bother her in the moment. She just wants to sleep and Alex is an obstacle to that in that moment.

“No bacon for you if you don’t get up, Kara. You know how much you like your bacon.”

She shoots up at that, looks at her with a glare that would be more effective, she later learns, if her bed head hadn’t been so bad. Alex doesn’t back down, doesn’t stop waving the pack of bacon around, Kara’s eyes following it from side to side. She can’t stop herself from drooling a little, her eyes never leaving the meat as she gets up slowly.

“Alex…I love you…”

She watches Alex falter a little, the bacon lowering as she looks at Kara, eyes shining and gaze soft. It almost makes her stop, makes her want to bask in that look for a little while, but she’s on a mission and she has to do this, has to get that meat away from her before Alex takes it away from her.

Kara lunges, grabs for the package, but she misses as Alex ducks under her, rolls across the room and taunts her with the food. She pouts at her but Alex shakes her head, tosses the pack to Lena who fumbles before catching it.

Alex snorts. “Are you serious? I thought you were a genius billionaire or something?”

Lena raises an eyebrow while Kara snorts. “Were you going to add playboy philanthropist?”

“Hush, you. I don’t tease you about your ability to quote every NSYNC song and you don’t tease me about my Marvel phase. We had an agreement.”

Kara laughs, goes to Alex and hugs her close as she mouths at her shoulder for a moment. Alex tries to shove her off half-heartedly, but she doesn’t do it for long. Instead, she just wraps her up in the warmest hug Kara’s ever felt. She holds her close and all Kara can do is enjoy it while it lasts, enjoy what she has as the despair she’s been wallowing in for the past few weeks retreats just a little bit.

Alex pulls back after a while, looks at her. She tilts her head in question, watches as the lights dawn in Alex’s eyes when she figures out what’s happening. It’s like watching the sun, like watching a reaction happen that she’s wanted for so long and to see it now is a miracle in the making. She smiles at her, watches the way Alex seems to grow under her gaze, puff out with pride and she can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, she’ll be okay.


End file.
